Kyed's confession**** PLEASE READ THE COMMENT FIRST ****Kyed's confession2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ria let herself being overcame by curiosity. A tiara-shaped tattoo behind his shoulders? She looked at Kyed's back. It was like she thought. In the center of his back, stretching out to the shoulder blades in a tangle of lines and soft curves, Kyed had a big black tattoo. She reclined her head slightly to the side.
"But that... It 's the Innayrin's Mark."
"Yes." he nodded, finishing to wear boots. He looked up at her and smiled. But something terribly sad and disarming was hidden in that smile.
"What is the Innayrin's Mark?" Kisha asked with her usual curious habit.
"Don't you really know who Innayrin is?" Kyed asked astonished.
"Of course I do! She's Goddess of Hope, who do you take me for?" Snorted the fairy. "It's just that I've never seen this mark before."
"You really do not know anything!" Quipped Kyed, raising an eyebrow. Kisha was ready to get back on the warpath, but this time Ri
Bauhaus Typography Essaybauhaus: innovators in typography & graphic designBauhaus Typography Essay7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
nestled between the two world wars, in a time of dramatic change and tenuous peace, there existed an arts and crafts institute in germany that had an influence on 20th century design like no other.
the staatiliches bauhaus, meaning construction house, was founded in weimar by architect walter gropius in 1919, who sought to create a unity between the fine and applied arts by integrating them with modern technology and human ingenuity. gropius saw this combination of artistic and practical tuition as a way to build a modern, logical and ordered, society (department of photographs, 2004).
such a utopian ideal required a new breed of artist and a fresh method of teaching. gropius felt that handicraft was the foundation of any art, stating the school will gradually turn into a workshop (gropius as cited in bauhaus archive, n.a).
gropius gathered a team of artists and master craftsmen to oversee these innovative training w
Valkyrie OriginsValkyrie is an eighteen year old girl who was turned over to the government. She was orphaned when she was a baby and was adopted by the two men who turned her into the government when she was ten.Valkyrie Origins1 year ago in Profiles More Like This
For eight years Valkyrie was experimented on. For eight years she was tortured, poked and prodded with needles. In pain all the time, scared for her life. She already died twice and was brought back.
Being made into the perfect weapon for them. The experimentations gave her the ability to control fire, ice, earth and lightning. Making her into the most powerful and perfect weapon.
Unfortunately, one of the side effects to the experimentations is memory loss. Every time she was experimented on more and more of her memory would disappear until there was nothing left. Not knowing her name, age, birthday or if she had a family.
Finally, while being experimented on one day there was a code red. An experiment was on the loose. Immediately everyone ran out of the room leavin
speaking in elegance, he's breathing liquid silveron a dead, dying muse he'd hangspeaking in elegance, he's breathing liquid silver7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
if it meant enough rainfall, emaciated
could erode the noose
saywords are violent and jagged;say4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
razor tongues trying to lick
away yesterday's wounds.
Echo Squad - Dreadnought part 2Echo Squad - Dreadnought part 22 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Bout time.” Dani said as Myls’Stanis walked into the cargo bay. She was busy configuring something on the display on the forward bulkhead of the compartment. Uli'Narah sat on a crate leaning against the rear bulkhead while Zen was against the far side of the cabin tinkering with his drone that was hovering next him. Myls set down next to Uli.
“Okay,” the squad leader started “We all know this was as last second as missions get, but by now we are a used to that. But the reason that we got sent out here in a human freighter will be obvious in a moment. Six days ago a long range radio telescope got lucky and picked up the emissions of a large vessel coming to the last jump point we just passed. It was barely in range of other optical sensors but we were able to get this.”
An image popped up on the screen and everyone just stared. Whatever they had been doing wasn’t important. Zen’s arms fell slowly and his drone disappeared. Myls gave
Hansel and GretelWhat kind of motherHansel and Gretel7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sends her children out
without their shoes or coats -
nothing but a trail of crumbs
to find their way back home?
They all find their way here.
Maybe it is the scent of holidays
freshly baked inside my kitchen
or the sight of spice drops
glistering in the rampant dusk.
The children like my house -
my rich ginger carpets
so easy to get lost in
and the pink pillows
puffed and glossy with promises.
They do not notice me watching,
how my fingers slip around their wrists
to measure their meager lives
or how I can smell when
they last ate their supper.
They only smile at me
and beg for more chocolate
in greedy little voices
and ask if they can see
what's baking in my oven now.
Titan x ReaderTitan x Reader1 year ago in Humor More Like This
You loved him with all your heart, but to bad you would pay for loving a Titan like him.
He ate you
Too Lateyou callToo Late7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
my mosaic heart
did you think it so
before it was in
tiny little pieces
now i see the stars.there was a time when inow i see the stars.7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
couldn't catch my breath whenever i
thought about you , (crippled lungs and-
boy, you hit me like an asteroid,
there's a crater on my chest now that I can't ever seem to fill,
oceans of my tears cried on
nights when you couldn't be there to sing me to sleep.
thirty two poemless days after you joined the constellations,
i walked out into the yard and howled to the empty sky,
for a moment i was Gaea, rivers running down my cheeks,
weighted to the ground and
buried in myself, but
where there is no light there are no shadows, and
sometimes, i wonder if i miss me.
yes, yes i do.
i may not see the moon, but
rewindI dreamt I was a necromancer,rewind7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
dreamt I was a demigod
who resurrected cultures, peoples,
skin and teeth and bones and hair.
I dreamt I was a logician, clinician,
an imagined anthropologist,
a linguist tinged with dark,
drew dialects into my mouth,
undid a hundred hundred years.
but it's a heavy, pricy spell.
I take the weight of ages and ages.
the yokes of seven continents
clang upon my pale brown hands.
(i want the truth)You left me behind, didn't you?(i want the truth)6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Animal Kingdom - PrologueHumans are the crown of creation.Animal Kingdom - Prologue3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Humans have learned to use tools, and conquered the world.
Humans have conquered the stars as well.
But in all their glory, they forget something...something important.
They forget, that they are not alone...that they aren't the only species, this planet gave birth to...and in their ignorance, they don't even care to look...where all the animals disappear to, once they're fed up with the destruction of their home world.
Today, another species disappears from this world...and as the last of its members passes through the magic gate, his brethren have created, he looks back one last time...at the burning remains of what has been their home for many generations.
Today, the last of the foxes disappears...and wonders, if these fools will even miss him.
As the portal, located in a fox den, and shining in all the colours of the rainbow, begins to flicker and wane, the fox finally whizzes through...and disappears from the face of the world.
On the other side,
kryptonite kidi.kryptonite kid10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
"I'll be batman,
and you can be my robin,"
you said with a smile.
(it's just like you
to want to play the hero.
you speak when
someone pulls the string on your back:
you have all the right words.)
when I was a little girl,
I wished I could be a superhero.
all I needed was a radioactive spider,
or hidden powers
or super soldier serum.
I grew up in pursuit of these,
and became an adult when I realized
that I'd never find them.
I miss the days when I believed
all I needed was a cape to save the world.
I knew you weren't the one
because somehow I still wanted a hero,
somehow I still believed they existed:
one person who could rescue the city
all in a day's work.
I knew you had the framework
but not the heart,
a branchless tree
with no roots.
sometimes I stand on the edge,
wishing I could fly
but knowing I never will.
I think it's enough to pretend
I'll learn how one day.
(in other words,
I'm not your sidekick.)
She watched me from her window.Have you ever looked out your window and observed the houses that surround your own only to glance at one of the neighbor's windows and find someone staring right back at you? It happened to me once. I felt awkward and embarrassed and quickly looked away. I assumed she had done the same. It was only when I felt the urge to quickly glance back that I realized her eyes were still focused on my own. I squinted just to make sure that she was in fact looking at me and not something else. I had no such luck. My eyes adjusted and the woman came into focus. I immediately felt uneasy. She was pale like snow and stood completely motionless with her arms at her side. I closed the curtains. Problem solved. I thought.She watched me from her window.1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Several hours had passed but I couldn't get the thought out of my head that if I opened the curtains again she would still be there. Eventually curiosity got the better of me but this time I decided to grab an old pair of binoculars I had lying around. I needed to know for sure if she
Broken HeartDo you love?Broken Heart7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Do you hate?
Do you stop to appreciate?
The feelings someone has for you?
The things that keep you from being blue?
Have you loved?
Have you lost?
Have you tried no matter what the cost?
Do you love her?
Does she love you?
Will you ever find out if it is true?
Have you loved while taking hate?
Is it she who doesn't appreciate?
Are you lost?
Are you confused?
Is it all leaving your heart bruised?
Is it real?
Is it faking?
Is it my heart that's slowly breaking?
Does it hurt?
Does it kill?
Does it make you never want to heal?
A broken heart is a great deal.
A broken heart may never heal.
excoriationi peel off my scabsexcoriation5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
looking for a different person
under my skin.
LunaticI haven't always been like this. I was pretty normal as a teenager. Moody, rude and inseparable from my Nokia phone and Claire's Accessories bangles. Much to my parents' glee (and my personal chagrin) I didn't do at all badly at school. Three Bs in A-Level English, Psychology and Maths. I did one year of a Sociology degree before deciding I was fed up with exams and packing it in. Six months later, my problems started.Lunatic2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I was just shy of twenty, living in a studio flat four minutes from Woolwich Arsenal, with a maxed-out credit card, a library of takeaway menus and a Russian hamster called Mojo Jojo. I was working in the canteen at Belmarsh Prison, dishing up slop to a delightful assortment of Category A offenders. The Puberty Fairy had given me cleavage you could hide a pencil case in, so I was expecting the leery comments from the inmates. What I wasn't expecting was the day one of them bit me.
"That must have given you a real shock. Why don't we talk about it?"
I shrug. The man acros
DreamsAs I dreamDreams7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I want to wake
Someone haunts each and every one
I awake disappointed because he is no longer there
He is the one with whom I wish to be
Right now dreams are better than reality
But these pretty lies I conjure in my head
Will not last
They are but a fleeting wisp of smoke
The pain they cause in the morn
Makes me wish to keep sleep far from my eyes
But my body insists upon such things as rest
Remembering Who You Once Were Little Eve,Remembering Who You Once Were 2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Life can be told through numbers- did you know that, dear child? That by saying a few simple syllables, by writing a stream of organized marks, you can communicate so much. Everyone knows you can pack a world, a story, a person into just a few words- but none consider numbers. Then again, I know you’re not one for numbers- even now (if this letter arrives on time, of course) you’re beginning to favor the weaving of words instead of the futile calculation of numbers…
Enough of all that rambling, I have a feeling that you’re wondering why this is here. Well, I’m here to tell the story of us- of everything after you, of everything before me- in just the simple numbers of years gone by.
Just barely experiencing life. You were young, innocent, and free, though you had no knowledge of being any of these. After all, it's impossible to know just how free you are without once being imprisoned, or to know your youth without being old. You didn't ca
The Blood In Your VeinsBlood saturated the walls and covered the floor, just enough to make it dangerously slippery. It felt warm and sticky on my bare feet, though. I took a step, careful not to slide. The blood didn't bother me; I didn't know whose it was. The smell, however, did. It was nauseating. I spied a piece of paper on the nightstand on the opposite wall. In fact, the nightstand was the only piece of furniture in the room. As ornate as it was, it did not seem to make the room feel any less empty. The light flickered, a threat that it would blow out at any given moment.The Blood In Your Veins7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
And so it began.
I took another step, adjusted my footing, then continued at a steady pace across the room. If I let the bulb blow out I would wake up, and I didn't want to until I read the note. I took five huge steps which should've put me next to the nightstand, however... it was still halfway across the room. The light flicked off for a moment, then popped back into existence. I'd held my breath for that split second.
I took a st
Broken HeartHe loves me...Broken Heart7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
He loves me not...
He loves me...
He loves me not...
I loved you once...
You loved me not...
I loved you twice...
But I forgot...
'I love you... But you'll never love me...'
You never loved me...
You never will...
But even so...
I love you still...
Forget the times he walked by,
Forget the times he made you cry,
Forget the times he spoke your name,
Remember your feelings arn't the same...
'You leave me here, with my broken heart to bleed.'
Forget the times her held your hand,
Forget the sweet things if you can,
Forget those times and don't pretend,
Remember now he's just a friend...
And you think:
'Will I ever get over him, or is my heart going too carry on breaking...?'
You know the end of something great is coming,
But you just want to hold on,
just so it can hurt a little more...
Sometimes you just have to let go,
to see if this is worth holding on too...
I wish I had the guts to walk away and forget about what we had...
But I can't
Je Suis La NuitThe night belongs to me, in all its whispering shadowsJe Suis La Nuit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am the watcher, the seer, the stand-in-the-dark-and-knower
The darkness is the cloak around me, the rough ground my dance floor
I am the silence and the sudden laughter,
And the melancholy melody of the party you weren't invited to.
This is my kingdom, my house of evening adventures,
Full of the clink of wine glasses and the shouting of revellers
My manor, with its well of sorrow and alcohol
I see how the light slides from graffiti and love it,
I smell the smoke of the burning barbecue and smile,
In concrete ginels, behind green gardens.
The stars are my hair-jewels, the moon my fan
The fading reflections from office windows are my dresses
The lipstick I flaunt is the red of cars hurrying home,
My perfume, the river at the end of the day
I prowl without prey, in the shivering anticipation
At the wind-down, in the high before sleep
My spotlight is the amber moon, over bare branches and shingles
My people, my subjects,
Are the quie